


sugarcane

by cheinsaw



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Praise Kink, Strap-Ons, like. a lot of praise kink, please don't tell my mom about this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 14:42:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21076574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheinsaw/pseuds/cheinsaw
Summary: Maou Nobunaga and Okita Alter, alone together.





	sugarcane

**Author's Note:**

> never thought i'd be the one to christen the maou/okialter tag. hey. sup.
> 
> we are gonna refer to them as MAOU and MAJIN to avoid confusion with vanilla okinobu who, though i love them, are not appearing in this film.
> 
> thanks xai for enabling : )

Maou sits at the edge of her Western-style bed like it's a throne—knees parted, leaning forward, slightly inquisitive. The room still feels new and sterile under the bright lights, so she's turned them down. Only a small bedside lamp casts its glow on her bare skin. "I know you probably want a futon," her master had said when Maou first arrived, half-sheepish half-apologetic. "Da Vinci's working on it, but this is all we have for now." So this is what Maou has, and so she will use it.

Majin stands before her, as she always does. She's smaller, without her platform shoes and distinctive red scarf, but even naked she still carries herself with exacting poise. A warrior, an assassin, perfectly ready to strike at any moment. "You look beautiful like this," Maou tells her, and beckons her forward.

The Devil Saber knows what she's meant to do here, and she does it well. Silently, she straddles Maou's thighs, only giving a soft grunt as she takes the first few inches of Maou's strap inside herself.

"There, good girl," Maou purrs, encircling Majin in her arms. Majin bottoms out after another moment, resting her full weight in Maou's lap. "How do you feel?"

Majin's mouth twists as she thinks. "Good. Full."

Maou lets her hand dip from Majin's shoulder down to her chest, lovingly cupping one breast for a brief second, just long enough to feel Majin's nipple peak under her fingers. "Well, then, you're free to move as you wish. Unless you'd rather have me fuck you tonight?"

Majin answers with a shake of her head and a roll of her hips, an awkward and experimental up-and-down thrust. Maou loves to watch this: the Devil Saber in pursuit of pleasure, only for her eyes. Majin finds a rhythm she likes quickly enough; Maou is enraptured by this, too. Then, perhaps a bit overzealously, Majin kisses Maou and pushes her down, so Maou is suddenly flat on her back.

"Oh?" Maou grins, trailing her fingertips down Majin's spine once their lips part. Majin trembles at the touch. Another small whimper—success. "You know what you want, hmm?"

Majin doesn't speak. Her eyes close, her mouth opens. Maou grabs at her hips and grinds them down against her own, then reconsiders and brings her hands back up. She pulls Majin's body closer, leaning up to kiss and nibble at her neck.

Majin gasps when Maou's teeth sink down into her shoulder. Just a pinch, that's all Maou wants to give; she trusts herself to never do any real damage to Majin. Hurting her is unthinkable. Making her cry out, though, is a different story. (And, oh, cry out she does.)

"Majin."

"Yes?"

"Sit up so I can touch." Majin does immediately. Maou is simply content to lie back and watch. "Ahahaha, that's my girl."

Maou doesn't miss the gleam in Majin's eyes as she speaks. She figured out very, very quickly that praising Majin reduces her to a trembling mess of a woman. Coupled with just the right amount of stimulation, and Majin becomes pliant in Maou's hands.

So, naturally, she doesn't stop.

"There you go," Maou coos, pressing her thumb against Majin's swollen clit and starting to rub in time with the bounce of Majin's hips. "Beautiful Majin. You're doing so well for me. There, there. Ah, see? You always take everything I give you _ so _ well…"

"Oh—oh—"

"Yes, do go on."

It's now that Majin finally breaks, her voice unrestrained at last in a near-constant stream of moans and shouts. This is the part Maou likes best: Majin sings for her.

Majin comes after a few moments of this, shaking and wordless and loud. It's a beautiful spectacle, a treasure Maou covets each time. She doesn't even need to come if she can watch Majin unravel before her like this. But it is so difficult not to give in, and Oda Nobunaga in all her forms does not show mercy or restraint.

Majin collapses down onto Maou's chest when she's done, nestling her face into Maou's collarbone and throat. Her breathing is rough and heavy; Maou strokes her back with a tired hand.

"Thank you," Majin says.

"No need," Maou replies. "Shall we clean up, my Majin?"

Majin pauses in consideration. "I think I want to stay like this for a little while."

Maou chuckles, turns her head to kiss the top of Majin's. "Yes. Whatever you'd like."


End file.
